I often think of running.
Of scampering through wilderness
and climbing trees.
Squirrel-ish.
And so many times I’ve hiked
to those places where it’s possible,
where if I just wished,
surely I’d blossom with reddish fur
and bottle-brush tail,
dart across leaf, branch and vine–
but
my body and mind dislike playing together.
Instead, their constant battling
cause my legs to sway, heart stampeding somewhere else;
those dreamt delights hissing as they sputter out,
rolling off balance,
decaying
among the rich leaves
hugging my feet.
You must be logged in to post a comment.